


Shining Silver, Gleaming Gold

by faeriefirefly



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: About the Uniporn, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, As it should be, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Illustrations, M/M, Smut Happens While Viktor is a Unicorn, Unicorn Viktor Nikiforov, Unicorns, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-13 20:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20588786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faeriefirefly/pseuds/faeriefirefly
Summary: A flash of white is there and gone and Yuuri relaxes back against his tree, thinking it must have been a deer that his scent startled away, but then the branches part and Yuuri’s jaw drops as he stares in wonder. A white nose has just nudged its way through the brush, followed by a silver mane and broad shoulders, all led by a swirling golden horn. An honest-to-goodness unicorn is carefully picking its way out of the forest, almost dainty in its movements, belying its size. It steps hesitantly, warily, turning its head to fix Yuuri with a stare of its own between starts and stops, until it’s fully in the clearing. The creature stands still, watching Yuuri before seemingly deeming him safe company, then bends its neck gracefully to nose at the grass coming nearly to its knees.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story came to me in that liminal space between sleeping and waking. I was floating there, kind of aware but kind of still dreaming, and it popped into my head complete and demanding to be written. I still can't believe I wrote this, and I really can't believe that some of my amazing cheerleaders/beta readers (of which I had a few to make sure it wasn't too terribly weird) have said it's sweet and wholesome, but I'm actually pretty happy with how it turned out. Enjoy! And if you don't think you will, please turn back now. 
> 
> ***_Story contains explicit sex scene between Viktor in unicorn form and Yuuri in human form. Don't like, don't read, and please don't leave any unkind comments._***
> 
> Now with illustrations by the amazing [Tundra_Kitsune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tundra_Kitsune/pseuds/Tundra_Kitsune)! I'm so spoiled. Thank you so very much Boss!!!

Yuuri draws in a shuddering breath, finally raising his head from where it’s been resting on his knees and leaning back against the smooth bark of the tree he’s sitting under. He looks up blindly at the vibrant green canopy, the sun’s rays filtering through in bright pinpricks of light. The sounds of nature, so seldom heard in his daily grind in the city, surround him—the rustle of leaves, the occasional chatter of squirrels, the warbles and calls and trills of birds—but the peaceful setting hasn’t calmed his racing mind. He’d made a fool of himself at his performance yesterday, bumbling through the steps and spells of his dance like a fool. Though his master had been his usual supportive self, gently critiquing his form and expressing confidence that Yuuri would do better next time, he fears his apprenticeship is in jeopardy. No matter how good he is in the studio, he can’t keep falling apart when it counts and expect to stay under Master Cialdini’s tutelage, even if Phichit assures him otherwise in his regular pep talks.

He’d slipped out this morning to avoid Phichit, his eternally cheerful roommate and self-proclaimed best friend not what he needs right now, even if he doesn’t really know what he needs. He thought coming out here to the forest encroaching on the edge of the city would help calm his mind, help him think, but all he’s really done is cry at a pity party for one. He hopes he can make his way back to the slipstream stop at the park entrance. The clearing he’d stumbled across isn’t too far from the trail and he should be able to manage a basic wayfinding spell if he needs to. He snorts in self-derision—should being the operative word, just like he _should_ have nailed his performance yesterday.

Movement catches his eye at the opposite edge of the clearing, more than the swaying of the foliage in the gentle breeze. He tenses, leaning forward to better see branches bending unnaturally: something big is passing through the brush. A flash of white is there and gone and Yuuri relaxes back against his tree, thinking it must have been a deer that his scent startled away, but then the branches part and Yuuri’s jaw drops as he stares in wonder.

A white nose has just nudged its way through the brush, followed by a silver mane and broad shoulders, all led by a swirling golden horn. An honest-to-goodness unicorn is carefully picking its way out of the forest, almost dainty in its movements, belying its size. It steps hesitantly, warily, turning its head to fix Yuuri with a stare of its own between starts and stops, until it’s fully in the clearing. The unicorn shakes its head, settling its shining silver mane over one shoulder as it flicks its long tail, lean until it ends in a tapered silver puff, more like a lion’s tail than a horse’s. The creature stands still, watching Yuuri before seemingly deeming him safe company, then bends its neck gracefully to nose at the grass coming nearly to its knees.

Yuuri can barely believe his eyes but he knows, intrinsically, that the creature before him is as real as he himself. He’d never thought he would see a unicorn outside a grimoire or fairy tale illustration. Though their existence was commonly accepted as fact, no one had ever been able to capture a photograph of a unicorn, much less a specimen: all known claims had been proven to be hoaxes. Even more elusive than the kirin of his homeland, unicorn sightings were now so few and far between that many theorized the creature had gone extinct. Clearly, those theories were wrong.

Something sings in Yuuri’s soul, his worries forgotten as he observes. He should be taking a photo, at least taking notes, but all he can do is stare, though he did manage to close his mouth before a bee buzzed in. He watches as the creature continues to nose through the grass, though it doesn’t seem to be eating any, ears swiveling toward every sound. The unicorn lifts its head to look at Yuuri again and gives up the pretense of the grass, moving a bit closer.

One step, then another, the unicorn slowly makes its way closer to Yuuri. As it moves farther from the shade of the trees and into the center of the clearing, its pristine white coat comes alive, sparkling iridescent in the sunlight. Yuuri doesn’t move a muscle, afraid to startle the magnificent beast as it continues its meandering advance. His heart races as it moves into the shade on his side of the clearing. He’s terrified and excited in equal measure, that vital organ fluttering in his chest like the birds still chirping around him. The legends say unicorns are attracted to those pure of heart and body, and while Yuuri is definitely a virgin, he’s never thought he was particularly virtuous. He’s never heard tale of a vicious unicorn before, but what will it do if he’s a disappointment, like he is to so many others?

The unicorn draws ever closer. Now that the beast is out of the tall grass, he sees cloven hooves matching the gold of its horn peeking out from the flowing white hair gracing its fetlocks. _His_ fetlocks, because _oh_, now Yuuri can tell it’s definitely a male. Even closer and Yuuri can see that his eyes are a crystalline aqua blue, framed by long lashes. The unicorn is only an arm’s length away now, close enough to touch. Yuuri does no such thing, of course, barely blinking or breathing as he stares up at the creature, though he should probably make sure he’s doing that last bit before he passes out.

Still moving slowly, as if he’s afraid to scare Yuuri off rather than it being the other way around, the unicorn arches his graceful neck down, down, until one liquid blue eye is staring straight into Yuuri’s brown. Then, he turns his head and his nostrils flare as he delicately inhales right in front of Yuuri’s face, then blows out a breath that lifts the hair on Yuuri’s forehead and smells sweet, like a soft spring rain. When Yuuri stays motionless, the unicorn shifts a touch closer and shivers shoot down Yuuri’s spine as the he tucks his damp nose into the crook of Yuuri’s neck and sniffs along his skin. He can’t help but let out a giggle at the ticklish sensation, freezing as soon as he does, but the unicorn seems to take it as an invitation to come even closer, inching forward and lipping lazily along Yuuri’s scalp like he did the grass, though he eats no more of the messy black strands than he did green.

Yuuri lets out a breath held too long in a sigh. While the unicorn continues his exploration of Yuuri’s shirt collar, he tentatively turns his head and lifts a hand, and the unicorn promptly shoves his head into Yuuri’s palm, demanding pets like a big puppy. Another delighted giggle escapes as Yuuri acquiesces, stroking the smooth white nose while the unicorn nibbles at his sleeve. Yuuri brushes the base of the horn and the unicorn snorts, giving a little shake of his head. He makes a note to avoid the sensitive area but the unicorn draws back, and Yuuri suddenly feels bereft, worrying if his wrong move has scared the creature away after all.

But he needn’t have worried—the unicorn steps over to Yuuri’s side and sidles in close before lying down with a great sigh, legs tucked under his body. Scant space separates them, so little that Yuuri can feel the heat radiating from the unicorn’s skin. One blue eye looks at him a long moment, considering, then the unicorn stretches his neck over and settles his head in Yuuri’s lap like that’s where it belongs. Yuuri is stock still again in shock and the unicorn has to nudge him, the side of his head hitting a little too hard in the stubborn pudge that clings to Yuuri’s stomach no matter how hard he works. Yuuri lets out a grunt but laughs a little breathlessly as he starts stroking the unicorn’s face again. “Okay, big guy. I guess I’m just here as a convenient, petting pillow, hmm?”

Yuuri’s hands wander as the unicorn seems content to lie in his lap and soak up the attention. He pats the muscles in that graceful but powerful neck, scratches behind the ears that flick with every noise from the forest, combs his fingers through all the silken silver mane he can reach, somehow untangled despite the unicorn’s trek through the brush. Magic, he knows it must be, some kind of innate magic that keeps the unicorn’s mane tangle free and shining like polished silver, that keeps his horn and hooves sparkling and his white coat free of a single smudge. He marvels at the beautiful creature in his lap and starts to murmur soft, sweet nothings to him as he pets and strokes and combs, even as he tells himself it’s silly to think that the unicorn understands.

They while away the afternoon, Yuuri’s anxious thoughts kept at bay by the wonder of the unicorn, until he realizes it’s nearly dusk. He starts, making the unicorn snort and look at him accusingly. “I’m sorry,” he says with another pat that turns into a caress along the side of that long jaw. “I just realized how late it’s getting. I have to go before it gets dark, or I won’t be able to find my way back and I’ll miss the coach.”

It’s as if the unicorn understands him after all, and doesn’t seem to like that idea, giving a higher-pitched nicker than the occasional soft sounds Yuuri’s been hearing all afternoon and shaking his head in agitation.

“I know. I don’t want to go either, but I must.” The unicorn looks at him beseechingly and he leans over, resting his forehead against the silky white hair just below the golden horn. “I can come back, though. Tomorrow, even, after my classes, I can come for a few hours. Will you be here if I come back?” His breath catches at the thought of never seeing the unicorn again. He didn’t even know this amazing creature existed this morning, but the thought makes his heart ache.

The unicorn whuffles reassuringly and stretches his neck, draping his head over Yuuri’s shoulder in a horsey hug. Yuuri can’t help but put his arms around his neck and hug back, burying his face in the soft, sweet smelling mane.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he mumbles into the silver strands before reluctantly pulling away. He stands, brushing off the seat of his pants while the unicorn does the same, getting up more gracefully than Yuuri ever has with several times the bulk. After one last pat and a promise of “Tomorrow, ok?” Yuuri turns away and resolutely walks to the edge of the clearing to make his way back to the path. He looks back over his shoulder one last time to find the unicorn watching him leave, silver mane streaming in a nonexistent breeze. 

***

Yuuri hurries along the trail, veering into the brush when he sees the gnarled branches of an old oak tree to his left, the one that marked his deviation from the beaten path last time. He walks straight through the thick leaf litter and undergrowth for a few minutes, then finds his way into the secluded space under a weeping willow and out the other side. It should be just a few more minutes’ walk, and ah, there, he can see where the trees begin to thin, letting the late afternoon sunlight lead his way to the brightness of the clearing. His classes ran late and he hopes he hasn’t missed the unicorn.

After what seems like ages, counting down the seconds as he’s been in his eagerness to see the unicorn again, he finally bursts through the woods on the edge of the clearing. But the unicorn isn’t there. Yuuri stops short, unable to stem the crushing wave of disappointment that breaks over him. He blinks back tears as he ambles over to sit under the tree he rested against yesterday. Of course the unicorn didn’t understand him, didn’t agree to an appointment this afternoon like he was coming to a doctor’s office instead of hoping to meet a mystical creature. Who knows if the unicorn even existed, if he wasn’t a product of Yuuri’s overactive imagination and stress after all, a mental break to escape from the mundane world for a little while? Yuuri sighs and leans his head back against the tree as he did the day before, closing his eyes and running his hands over his face. He supposes he can take a few minutes to relax in the peace and quiet before he heads back. As he rests, his breathing evens out and his thoughts quiet, until no conscious thought is left and only impressions of feelings float through his mind.

Something brushes across Yuuri’s cheek and startles him awake with a squeak. His heart is pounding so hard he fears it will escape his chest, but as he’s jolted from the doze he must have slipped into, he sees the unicorn standing right in front of him. A smile spreads across his face despite the scare—he wasn’t a figment of Yuuri’s imagination after all. Yuuri reaches out a hand to stroke the unicorn’s nose, soft as velvet under his fingertips.

The unicorn closes his eyes and sighs, nudging his nose firmly under Yuuri’s hand. He lets out a soft whicker that ends in a flutter of breath blowing through his lips and nostrils, tickling Yuuri’s fingers with the vibrations. His big blue eyes open and he pulls away, only to settle down at Yuuri’s side again like the day before. He butts Yuuri’s shoulder, nuzzles into his neck, then lays his great head in Yuuri’s lap once again with another deep sigh.

Laughing softly as one blue eye rolls up to look at him from under long silver lashes, Yuuri resolves himself to an hour or so of lavishing affection on the unicorn once again. “I can’t stay long,” he murmurs, stroking silver strands from the unicorn’s face, and the unicorn huffs a snort in response. “I’m sorry,” he starts, then proceeds to tell the unicorn about his day, his lessons, how his classes ran late and how he wanted nothing more than to skip them and come straight to the forest this morning. “But I can’t do that, you know. I have to keep up my studies, as long as they’ll have me. Besides, what am I supposed to say? Please excuse me from class today; I found a unicorn in the forest?” He laughs, and it ends in a sigh. “I won’t be able to come at all tomorrow. I think I’ll miss you.”

The unicorn rubs his cheek against Yuuri’s chest, as if agreeing with him. “Oh? Will you miss me too?” Yuuri giggles, and the unicorn whuffles before relaxing back into his lap, allowing Yuuri to cosset him once more.

As the sun hangs lower and lower in the sky, Yuuri nudges the unicorn’s head off his lap. Though he grumbles in a series of little snorts, the unicorn cooperates after Yuuri promises to come back in two days’ time, when he has the afternoon free again. Yuuri could swear the unicorn truly understands him, but that’s crazy, right? He leaves with one last pat to the unicorn’s neck and races to catch the slipstream home. Yuuri makes the coach with mere moments to spare and spends the ride home thinking of the unicorn.

*

A few visits later, Yuuri sits under the tree he’s come to think of as theirs, the unicorn at his side. He’s running his fingers through the silken silver mane, musing aloud as he’s taken to doing, telling the unicorn about the goings-on at Master Cialdini’s, at the university, even at home, since he spoke with his parents earlier that morning over the mirror. “And then Mari teased me about my hair, which is getting long, unicorn, but—”

He stops abruptly, realizing he’s just been calling the unicorn, well...unicorn, all this time. He supposes the unicorn should have a proper name, with all the time he’s spending with him. The unicorn nudges him and he resumes his stroking and his story, but the thought that the unicorn needs a name lingers past his time in the clearing.

When he visits the unicorn a few days later, he comes prepared with a list of names he thought suited the unicorn. He starts with the As, listing off Aarav and Albin and Aurelius, and runs all the way through the Zs, Zakai and Zephyr and Zuma, and the unicorn seems unimpressed with all of them, rolling his eyes and letting out great big sighs in seeming disappointment. Yuuri resolves to bring a better, longer list the next day, but it goes just as poorly. On the third day, Yuuri is almost to the end of the list when he comes across Viktor, and the unicorn perks up, flicking his ears forward in interest.

“Viktor?” The unicorn huffs, nuzzling Yuuri’s cheek with his nose. Yuuri reaches up to pet him and tries it again. “Viktor.” Yuuri likes the way it feels falling from his lips, the way it rolls off his tongue. The unicorn seems happy with it, too, gracefully rising to his feet to prance about the clearing, kicking up his feet and shaking his mane. Yuuri sets the list aside as he giggles at his antics. “Viktor!” he calls, hopping up to chase after him. “Wait for me!”

*

It’s the height of summer and Yuuri has two entire weeks off while Master Cialdini visits family in Italia. He still has lectures to attend, and has to practice on his own, of course, but no structured practice and no performances to prepare for. He’s been spending hours with Viktor every day, lazing around, reading and dozing and doting on the unicorn, and it’s been wonderful. The only downside is the summer heat and humidity that curls Yuuri’s hair and makes his clothes stick to his skin the moment he steps outside. The air itself is thick and sticky, if a touch cooler in the forest and under their tree, but Viktor doesn’t seem affected by it at all. In fact, maybe the unicorn has magical cooling properties, because though it should be too hot to touch much of anything comfortably, let alone lean against Viktor or have his head in his lap, Yuuri doesn’t mind it one bit. Viktor is dozing in his lap now, as he leans back against their tree and lets his thoughts drift with the swaying of the leaves.

He strokes Viktor’s nose idly, fingers roaming closer and closer to his horn while he’s not paying attention, until he realizes his mistake. He’s not tried to touch the gleaming gold since that first day, when he thought he’d scared Viktor away. He’s grown more and more comfortable around Viktor, and the unicorn has grown impossibly more comfortable himself, certainly more demanding. He couldn’t have imagined Viktor falling asleep in his lap even a few weeks ago, but here they are. He leans in slightly, taking a closer look at the horn jutting out of Viktor’s forehead. The horn itself is shorter than Yuuri would have imagined, and thicker, spiraling counterclockwise and tapering gently into a smooth, rounded end instead of a point, unlike that of a kirin or the illustrations he’s seen. The base melts seamlessly into the white of Viktor’s coat, Viktor’s shorter forelock falling perfectly as always, silver sweeping to the left behind the gold and in front of his ear.

Yuuri’s fingers itch to touch the horn, to see if it feels as sleek and smooth as it looks, if it really does meld perfectly into Viktor’s skin and skull. He glances down at Viktor, still sleeping, and combs his fingers through the soft forelock, barely missing the horn. He strokes the soft silk of Viktor’s nose, long and languid, finally grazing the horn on one pass, then the next, his skin tingling from those barest brushes. Viktor opens one big blue eye and looks up at Yuuri but stays still, seemingly content to let Yuuri do as he wishes. Biting his lip, Yuuri softly runs a finger from the base of the horn to the tip. It’s slightly cool to the touch, silky smooth save for the subtle ridges the spiral makes as it twists its way up to the top, and sends stronger tingles through his skin. Viktor shivers but otherwise remains motionless—it seems the horn is indeed as sensitive as Yuuri had thought the first time he’d accidentally touched it.

Yuuri trails back down the horn, carefully circling the base, making Viktor shiver again as he feels the slight crest of bone beneath skin and hair. A softer tingling than he’d felt from the horn proper echoes through his fingertips as he caresses the crest, maps its shape, finds faint lines radiating from where it encircles the horn like the rays of a sunburst. Yuuri brings his other hand up and traces the ridged lines back to the horn, softly grasping it around the base and finding that his forefinger and thumb can’t quite touch. He continues to explore, feels that the tingling is strongest there at the base, a bit like the pins and needles of sitting on his feet too long but much more pleasant.

Viktor lies docilely in his lap, quivering when Yuuri hits a particularly sensitive spot and letting out an occasional sigh through his nose. When Yuuri’s looked and touched his fill, back to idly stroking and no longer avoiding the horn, Viktor lifts his head and nuzzles into Yuuri’s neck, sliding his long jaw against Yuuri’s in a gentle caress as he shifts a little closer. Something warm and wet touches Yuuri’s ear and he leans back in surprise to see Viktor’s pink tongue has slipped out between pearly white teeth. It’s forked at the end, and smooth, not like the rough tongues of the cows he used to pet back home, narrower than he would have thought.

A laugh startles from Yuuri’s mouth as he realizes Viktor’s licking him like an overgrown puppy while he snuggles Yuuri as best he can. Yuuri gently pushes him away, wiping unicorn saliva from his face, and who would have thought he would ever use that phrase? Viktor squeals softly, like a whine, trying to cuddle closer again, his forked tongue darting out from between his lips, and Yuuri shushes him.

“No, Viktor, no licking. I’m already gross and sticky; I don’t need to add spit-soaked on top of that.” Viktor almost looks offended and is definitely pouting, turning his face away with a huff. “Hey, none of that, big boy. We can still cuddle, ok?” Viktor still doesn’t look at him.

Yuuri lets Viktor sulk, shuffling to his knees and reaching around between the tree roots to grab his bag. He pulls out his water bottle and dampens his shirt, clumsily wiping his face before taking a drink. He would usually offer Viktor a drink, too, but the unicorn is still resolutely looking the other way. Yuuri rolls his eyes and puts the bag away, then turns to Viktor to settle back down and coax the big baby back into a good mood, but he freezes, still up on his knees.

Viktor is lying down like usual, forelegs tucked up under him but hind legs splayed out a bit, more relaxed than he was in the spring. And there on display is what can only be Viktor’s erect penis, deep pink and jutting out proudly from between his legs. Yuuri can’t help but stare. He’s never seen it before, always tucked away in its sheath as it is, but now it’s out in the open, the fat head resting against Viktor’s barrel. Yuuri feels himself flush all the way up to his ears and tears his gaze away as he realizes he’s still staring, the image burned behind his eyelids like a brand. Fortunately, Viktor is still looking the other way, ignoring Yuuri as he pouts, and doesn’t seem to have noticed.

Yuuri settles back down next to Viktor, thankful that the unicorn is still sulking while he gets himself together. He picks up his abandoned book to study while he wills his blush away, but he can’t concentrate, still seeing that bit of flesh in his mind’s eye, startlingly pink against the white of Viktor’s coat, not quite as flared at the head as a human member but still more like his own than he would have expected, if considerably larger. He thinks about it a bit guiltily, feeling somewhat shameful in the way he can’t shake it off like he would if it were another animal. Maybe it’s because Viktor doesn’t seem to have physical needs. He never eats or drinks anything but a bit of what Yuuri offers him on occasion, he’s never seen him relieve himself, and he’s certainly never seen him excited until now.

What changed? Was it seasonal or something Yuuri— Oh. He wonders if it was the horn, the way it seemed so sensitive to the touch. Maybe it’s some sort of secondary sex organ rather than the vessel for magic everyone’s always assumed. Yuuri shudders, thinking of the old tales of people trying to capture unicorns for their horns and hair, hoping to shear both and keep the creature to grow them back again and again. Whatever the case, he decides to leave Viktor’s horn alone from now on, no matter how much the unicorn clearly enjoyed the attention, in hopes of keeping Viktor from getting excited again. Hopefully, that will keep Viktor from trying to lick Yuuri too. Resolved, Yuuri firmly pushes the topic from his mind and focuses on his book once again, until Viktor finally stops pouting and demands his attention.

Late that night, long after Yuuri had left the clearing and gone home to bed, a beautiful man visits his dreams. Flowing silver hair barely covers the man’s nudity, his pale skin on full display, eyes a piercing aqua blue. And jutting from his forehead is a swirling golden horn. The man speaks softly and though Yuuri strains toward the lovely tenor of his voice, he can’t understand what he’s saying. He understands his touch, though, somehow familiar, gentle fingers in his hair, along his skin. Hot kisses press against his neck from silky soft lips that trail down, lower and lower still, until they envelop his rock-hard cock in wet warmth. Yuuri wakes with a gasp, the clock on his nightstand showing it’s just past the witching hour. The details of the dream fade as soon as he tries to grasp them, and he soon falls back into a dreamless sleep after stripping off his messy underpants. 

*

Master Cialdini’s been back from his trip for a few weeks now, and Yuuri finds his time with Viktor cut shorter as practice intensifies once again. It’s still hot but not as stifling and sticky, and Yuuri decides to take his solo practice to the clearing rather than spend more time in the studio. He’s practiced there before, bits of step sequences and spells here and there, but never seriously. Viktor is as happy to see him as always and seems content with watching Yuuri from the shade of their tree.

Yuuri feels lighter on his feet than ever, flying through the steps of his choreography, the spells slipping from his fingertips and perfectly pointed toes with ease despite the heat. If only he could be this free in front of an audience of more than just a solitary unicorn who might not even be able to appreciate the dance. He takes a break to catch his breath and grab a drink, patting Viktor’s neck and scratching behind his ears when he bends his head down to butt his face into Yuuri’s chest. Viktor takes a small drink, too, sucking the water from Yuuri’s cupped hands, before he puts his bottle away and goes back to practice. He runs through his routine a few more times, each feeling more perfect than the last, like he’s dancing on air, no longer bound by the natural laws of physics and gravity.

Yuuri’s last set of drills takes him closer to the opposite side of the clearing than usual, and he spots flashes of color in the underbrush. Scattered among the trees on this edge of the woods are what appear to be rose bushes, with lovely blue blooms peeking out from between thorny branches. They must be a late blooming variety as Yuuri’s never noticed them before, thinking nothing of the bushes without a closer look, and they’re quite lovely—he didn’t even know roses came in blue. He makes his way through the brambles, carefully, so as to avoid getting scratched, and gathers several beautiful blooms.

Viktor looks on placidly as Yuuri walks back over with his prize and stands still as Yuuri clumsily tries his hand at a plait in Viktor’s mane. He combs out his first few tries but then finally gets one right, only to comb it out again in favor of redoing it one more time, securing roses into the braid as he goes. He steps back to admire the effect, pleased at how his plan is working out, then starts on the next plait, murmuring to Viktor the entire time. An hour later and Viktor is even more beautiful than before, his shining silver mane laced with braids and blue roses. Yuuri wishes his pocket mirror could capture a photo, but he’s tried before and something about Viktor’s magic throws it off, always makes the picture turn into a blurry white flash. He commits the sight to his memory instead, drinking in the dappled light of the afternoon sun on Viktor’s coat, the way the flowers make his blue eyes look impossibly bluer, until Viktor nudges him with a huff and demands more petting. Yuuri laughs and promptly complies. 

*

Yuuri rushes to catch the slipstream, barely making it on the coach in time. It’s been four days since he’s seen Viktor, the longest he’s gone without visiting the clearing since he found it months ago. Summer is slipping into autumn and the days are growing shorter, limiting the time he can spend in the park. He misses Viktor tremendously, the unicorn’s absence an ache in his chest. He wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t felt it for himself, but spending time with Viktor has become a physical need, as essential as breathing. He visits as often as he can, every moment he can spare away from his studies.

Phichit noticed Yuuri’s new scarcity almost immediately, right after he’d found the clearing that late spring day, and has been making sly little comments about Yuuri finding someone special after he’d let Viktor’s name slip one particularly sleep-fogged morning. He does love his best friend but having Viktor there to listen, to pour his heart out to no matter how trivial or significant the topic and feel no fear of judgment, have no one telling him what he should do, is wonderful. Phichit says he’d never judge, and Yuuri knows it’s true, of his family and Minako, too, but he doesn’t always _feel_ that way, and there’s still a protective wall up between them, one he’s never let down with anyone before. But with Viktor, Yuuri can be his true self, let his thoughts fly unfiltered, and can give and receive all the physical affection that’s so hard for him with humans.

In fact, most of Yuuri’s time with Viktor is spent touching the unicorn in some way. If he isn’t actively petting his soft hide or silky mane, Viktor’s head is often in his lap. Just as often, Yuuri cuddles up in the curve of Viktor’s side, using him as a backrest while he reads aloud, or while he studies and Viktor dozes. They’re usually under their tree, but occasionally, Yuuri spreads out his books and notes across the flat-topped boulder on the other side of the clearing, Viktor ambling around but periodically coming back to Yuuri before moseying off again. Sometimes, they wander around the clearing together, side by side, Yuuri’s hand on Viktor’s shoulder or Viktor’s tail curled around Yuuri’s waist. Viktor radiates calm, soothing Yuuri’s frazzled nerves and tempering his anxiety with his touch. Yuuri supposes it must be part of his magic, something in Viktor’s nature that brings peace. The calm lingers after his visits, helping Yuuri sleep better by keeping spiraling thoughts in check, helping settle his nervousness before exams and performances. He’s more centered than ever before, doing much better with his dancing. Master Cialdini is noticeably pleased, calling him his ace, his star pupil, and Yuuri no longer worries about losing his apprenticeship.

But worry is starting to creep back into his everyday thoughts, even when he does find the time to visit Viktor before the park closes at twilight and the slipstream stops running earlier and earlier. He worries about Viktor, how the unicorn will fare in the winter, how Yuuri will be able to see him as the days continue to grow shorter. The worries about the upcoming season make him worry about further into the future, when he graduates and becomes a master of his craft in his own right. Then, he’ll have to go back to Hasetsu, at least for a little while, and he can’t exactly take a unicorn with him. He knows Viktor is intelligent, but how could Viktor understand such a complicated concept as that?

The coach glides to a halt at the park entrance, drawing Yuuri from his thoughts. He hurries down the trail once again, anxious to see Viktor, feeling his mood lighten with every step closer. Viktor is there on the other side of the clearing, waiting for him, and gives a joyous whinny as soon as Yuuri is free of the forest. Yuuri breaks into a run as Viktor canters over, flying up to the unicorn and wrapping his arms around his strong neck. Viktor wraps his neck around Yuuri’s shoulder in a hug, too, as Yuuri squeezes tight, savoring the feeling while he can.

***

Yuuri drifts in and out of consciousness, dozing under their tree with Viktor’s head in his lap in the late afternoon sunlight. The full moon is upon them, a rare blue moon, and Yuuri’s been restless. Something unknown itches under his skin, vague impressions of something just out of reach haunt his dreams. This morning, he’d woken up gasping, wanting, feeling phantom touches from a dream still on his skin. He’d wrapped his hand around himself but it wasn’t enough, so he’d rummaged in the drawer of his bedside table for sweet oil, coated his fingers in it and drove them into himself, too, something in which he rarely indulged. It was enough to get him over the edge but still not enough to sate the aching, empty want he felt, and he still feels slick and slightly swollen hours later. The hollow ache is better now that he’s in the clearing with Viktor, though. It’s still there but dulled, calmed by Viktor’s soothing presence

Yuuri starts, blinks sleepily, and looks at his mirror. He still has time before the slipstream stops running. He settles back in against Viktor, cuddling into his side and absently stroking his silky muzzle. He’ll just rest his eyes for a few more minutes...

When Yuuri next wakes, it’s a struggle, swimming up from the depths of sleep. He’s been dreaming again, of the beautiful man with soft skin and softer touches—he’s achingly hard despite his morning activities and the emptiness is worse than ever. He pries open his eyes and sees that he’s still in the clearing, dark but for the light of the moon hanging low and huge in the sky. He sighs and runs a hand down his face, then notices Viktor’s head is no longer in his lap. He sits up from where he was resting against his broad shoulder to see a big blue eye watching him, the golden horn glowing softly in the darkness. So close to the dream, Yuuri remembers this time, remembers pale white skin, piercing blue eyes, long silver hair. Now, with the dream echoing through his mind and blurring the edges of reality, blurring Viktor with the beautiful man in the dream, he _knows_. Everything slots into place and he stares back at Viktor in wide-eyed wonder.

Viktor whickers at him, softly, and nuzzles into his cheek, his neck. Then, he nuzzles lower, down his chest, his tummy, lower yet, butting his nose ever so gently into the hard length in Yuuri’s pants. 

“Viktor!” Yuuri gasps, pushing him away weakly.

A snort, then that big blue eye is staring into his again. Viktor rubs his cheek against Yuuri’s reassuringly before bending down again. He lips at Yuuri’s pants, grazing his hardness and sending a shiver through Yuuri, then delicately tugs at the waistband with his teeth.

Yuuri closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He’s known Viktor is intelligent, can understand what he says, but he’s never seen him as having a sense of self before. He remembers the vague guilt he’d felt earlier in the summer, when he’d accidentally excited Viktor, but there’s no need for that, no place for it here and now. No matter how strange, this is Viktor, all of him, and it feels right, real, more than anything else has in his life. He opens his eyes to look into crystal blue again and strengthens his resolve, sliding shaky hands down to slip off his pants, shivering at the feel of soft grass on his bare skin.

Another loving caress of Viktor’s cheek against his, then all he can feel is velvet softness against his cock as Viktor carefully lips along the length. Yuuri feels his forked tongue dart out for a taste and can’t help the moan that escapes him. Viktor seems to take this as encouragement, wrapping the lithe muscle around Yuuri’s shaft, warm and wet and wonderful before it uncoils. The points run along Yuuri’s foreskin, dipping in to expose the head and play along the ridge. Then, Viktor skims lower, licking and lipping delicately at the loose skin below before slipping that long tongue lower, tickling at Yuuri’s entrance. He laps at the puffy, puckered ring for several moments, making Yuuri moan and writhe, before licking a long stripe all the way to the head of his cock and swirling his tongue around it. 

Viktor withdraws and Yuuri opens his eyes in disappointment and confusion, though he’s not even sure when he closed them. Viktor nickers softly, then nudges Yuuri’s hip and repeats the motion more forcefully when he gets no response, almost like he’s trying to flip Yuuri.

“Sorry, you want me to turn over?” A soft whuffle and more insistent nudging answer his question and he scrambles to comply, letting Viktor gently poke and prod until he’s on all fours. He cranes his neck to look behind him and sees Viktor dip his head before he feels warm breath on his exposed hole. He feels rather than sees that pink tongue flick out and lave over the ring of muscle until it’s sloppy wet, then feels it wiggle its way inside. He gives up trying to see Viktor, focusing on staying up on his hands and knees while his head hangs down between his arms and he pants for breath. It feels so good, so much better than his fingers, reaching deeper and wriggling with purpose, and he tells Viktor so. Or tries, his words not really working, but he hopes his sighs and moans of pleasure get his point across.

Viktor slides his tongue out to lick over him again, down his perineum and sac to his shaft, the silky soft hair on his nose brushing across Yuuri’s entrance as he licks lower. Then he withdraws, and Yuuri starts to protest when he feels something else against him, something hard instead of soft, smooth instead of wet. He looks back and sees Viktor has bowed his head low, enough so that what he feels is the blunt end of his horn slowly pressing in, inch by careful inch. It’s warm now, tingling with energy just like it had against his fingertips that lazy summer afternoon, a sensation utterly foreign but most pleasant. The tingling intensifies as Viktor sinks deeper, and Yuuri remembers that it’s most intense at the base of his horn. He’s never had anything but his fingers inside him before, and he remembers how big it is, how wide the base, and is rather intimidated. But, oh, how he _wants_.

The horn slowly slips inside but Yuuri is impatient now, and rocks back against Viktor, taking it deeper, moaning at the feel of the spirals sliding against his sensitive opening. He cranes his neck again, watching the muscles in Viktor’s own neck and shoulders ripple with restraint as he rocks forward, then back again. “Viktor, Viktor,” he gasps, begging. “Let me do it. Please, let me.”

He pushes up, rising slowly from his hands as he feels Viktor adjust to his new position, until Viktor is lying with his neck stretched out and jaw flat on the ground, and Yuuri is kneeling over him, back arched. Every movement along the way sends a tingling jolt of pleasure through Yuuri, radiating from the horn. He sinks down, stretching himself too quickly, but it feels so good even as it burns. It feels even better when he feels Viktor shiver as he rises, then sinks back down again a little deeper, again and again and again, losing himself in the feeling, in the pleasure, until he feels soft hair brush his cheeks. He hovers there for a moment, thighs burning but so full, so warm, then takes his cock in one hand and starts moving again. He picks up speed as he grows used to the stretch, feeling every ridge of the spiral sliding in and out of his tingling flesh.

Viktor shudders and sighs beneath him as he moves, Yuuri can feel long lashes flutter against his inner thighs when he thrusts down, and he remembers Viktor’s pink cock jutting out from between his legs the last time he touched his horn. Suddenly, taking his own pleasure isn’t enough. He stills, lifting himself off the horn, hissing as losing the tingling length leaves him feeling bereft. He turns to face Viktor, who’s looking at him almost worriedly. He strokes Viktor’s muzzle, his cheeks, places a kiss on the tip of his nose, and hugs him hard around the neck. Then he urges Viktor up, despite his snorts, and pets along his neck, his shoulders, his flank, tracing the line of his thigh down his barrel until he’s reaching underneath as Viktor stands stock-still, neck curved to watch Yuuri as best he can.

He runs his fingers down the sheath first, soft, silky, like the rest of Viktor’s coat, then trails his fingers to where his pink cock protrudes. It’s big, but not much longer than Viktor’s horn nor much thicker than the tingling base, hard and dripping pearly precum. Yuuri dips a fingertip into the weeping slit and brings the dampness to his lips. It’s sweet, honeyed like Viktor’s breath. He takes Viktor’s shaft in both hands and bends down to drink from the source, finding he can just fit his mouth around the flat head. He feels Viktor quiver as he works the wetness around his shaft and licks and sucks at the tip, can feel how tense he is in his struggle to stay still.

Yuuri thinks even as he moans around the thick cock in his mouth, then pulls off, straightening as an idea comes to mind. He leans into Viktor’s shoulder, accepting a horsey hug and rubbing his cheek against Viktor’s, then pushes away, glancing back to make sure Viktor is following him. Yuuri walks toward the other side of the clearing, shedding his shirt as he goes. He stops at the big boulder, the top so flat he’s used it as a table, and the perfect height for what he has in mind. He drapes his shirt over the granite and turns to pet and hug Viktor again before bending over the surface. Yuuri’s chest is flat against the boulder, protected from the rough stone by his shirt, and he wiggles until he finds a comfortable spot, arching his back and tilting his hips.

“Viktor, come here,” he calls, and feels the whuffle of breath against his skin, then Viktor rubbing his cheeks against Yuuri’s sides and making him giggle. “Very funny. I think you know what to do, big boy.” 

Viktor leans into him just a bit, then he feels his slick tongue at his entrance again, slipping in with ease, making Yuuri tremble with pleasure. The unicorn shuffles forward, front legs on either side of Yuuri’s, bending down to nuzzle at the back of his neck and lip at his hair before carefully maneuvering into place. Yuuri feels the soft hair of his chest and barrel brushing his back, then the tip of his cock slides between Yuuri’s cheeks. Viktor stops, and Yuuri reaches back to grasp Viktor’s thick length, moaning as he rubs the leaking head over himself and teases at his hole. He doesn’t think there’s any oil left from this morning with all the licking he’s been subjected to, but that doesn’t seem to matter with the amount of thick, translucent liquid Viktor is producing.

The blunt head is right there, sliding against the sensitive skin of his opening as his rim flutters against it, and Yuuri stops teasing them both. He relaxes as much as he can, urging Viktor forward with his hand and voice. The pressure is intense, and for a moment, he doesn’t think this is going to work, that the difference in their sizes and his lack of experience are insurmountable. “Pleasepleaseplease,” he practically sobs, and suddenly, the head pops in almost audibly. Viktor stills above him, whickering softly as Yuuri adjusts to the intrusion, his muscles spasming, twitching frantically around the ridged head of Viktor’s cock.

One deep breath, then another, and it’s easier with each exhale, until it stops being too much and is suddenly not enough. That restless itch is back, and Yuuri knows the only thing that can scratch it is Viktor buried inside him. He wiggles his hips and breathes out, “Okay. You can move now,” and Viktor does, pushing forward carefully. He slips in a bit farther, then pulls out, repeating the motion and driving deeper each time, like Yuuri did earlier. It hadn’t looked much bigger than Viktor’s horn, but Yuuri can feel every millimeter of extra girth as Viktor’s cock pushes forward. He’s awash in sensation, the slick slide along his stretched rim is exquisite, he can feel Viktor carving out a space for himself deep inside, so long and thick, Yuuri could almost swear he feels him in his throat.

Yuuri can’t help the wanton moans escaping him. It feels so amazing, so much better than his fingers, than Viktor’s horn even, better than he ever imagined. He’s chanting an endless stream of _Viktor_ and _yes_ and _more_ and _please_ among broken cries, and Viktor obliges. The unicorn picks up his pace, drives a bit deeper, and starts stroking over something, one particular sweet spot inside Yuuri that sends sparks shooting behind his eyelids. He reaches down desperately, grabbing his own cock and jerking himself in time with Viktor’s movements. A twist of his wrist at the head, another stroke of Viktor’s long length against that spot, and then oh, _oh_, he’s cumming, harder than he ever has in his life, clenching around Viktor’s thick cock still moving inside him. He’s still spurting, weakly, as he feels Viktor tense and pulse inside. He whites out, feeling Viktor’s thick cum overflowing and dripping down his thighs. 

A few minutes later, he comes to as he feels Viktor carefully pull free. He whines at the loss but is too boneless to do anything about it, trusting Viktor to come nuzzle him until he can move again. But his eyes snap open when he feels hands on his face instead of a velvet nose and sees the beautiful man from his dreams in front of him. He shrieks and jumps to his feet, ignoring the twinges of discomfort, looking around wildly for Viktor.

“Yuuri, Yuuri, hush. It’s ok. It’s me,” says the man in a musical voice, and Yuuri knew it, had known earlier, but the shock of seeing this man instead of his unicorn had overridden his senses.

“Viktor?” he whispers.

“Yes, sweetling, it’s me.”

He lets human Viktor hug him close, run his hands through his messy mop and along his sides, nuzzle his face into the crook of his neck and shoulder, just like unicorn Viktor, and relaxes. He sits on the boulder as bidden and Viktor sits next to him. He can’t stop touching Yuuri, as if mapping him with his hands. Yuuri tentatively reaches up to do the same, brushing the long silver hair out of Viktor’s face, tracing his high cheekbones, staring straight into those crystal blue eyes. His fingers brush the swirling horn emerging from human Viktor’s forehead. He murmurs, “You still have your horn.”

Viktor laughs and mirrors his action. “So do you, my Yuuri.”

Yuuri gasps as he feels an entirely new sensation, fingers stroking along his new horn, sending those same tingles throughout his body. “Your Yuuri,” he repeats after a moment, when Viktor stops petting his horn and he’s not so overwhelmed.

Viktor leans forward and runs his horn along the length of Yuuri’s, kissing him before leaning back to say, “My Yuuri, my mate. You are mine, and I am yours. That’s how it has always been and how it will always be.” He kisses Yuuri’s right ring finger, then his left, and Yuuri’s eyes are drawn to the swirling pattern that’s grown there in silver in gold, as entirely unknown to him as the horn. The pattern is still forming, climbing up the back of his hands and wrists, and he turns Viktor’s over to see the same pattern growing up his forearms. “This is our story, in the language of the ancients, to show our souls are bound together and the bond consummated.” He leans his forehead against Yuuri’s, horns crossed. “I’ve waited for you so long, Yuuri.”

Yuuri can’t help but hug Viktor tight at the whispered confession, the longing he hears in Viktor’s voice echoing the longing he felt in his own chest until Viktor came into his life, the hollow ache he felt earlier. “I’m here now,” he replies, and drops a soft, sweet kiss on Viktor’s lips, feeling him smile.

“That you are.” Viktor stands, holding a hand out to Yuuri and waving the other. Yuuri gapes as a swirling vortex appears in mid-air at the gesture, a rainbow of color spinning lazily. He’s heard of portals to other worlds, but they’re just as mythical as his unicorn was before this summer. Viktor takes Yuuri’s other hand and draws him to his feet, kissing him softly. “Let’s go home.”

He grips Viktor’s hands tight, then lets one drop, walking with him to the portal. He can feel it calling him, thrumming through his veins. He takes one last look at the world he was born into, at this clearing where he met Viktor, his mate, his other half, then steps through, still holding Viktor’s hand.

***

There hasn’t been a confirmed unicorn sighting in years and years, but if you listen to the shadows, you might hear whispers of a certain forest glade, where if the moon is bright and luck is on your side, you could catch a glimpse of one. Or two, if the whispers are to be believed. Their forelegs carry a swirling pattern of silver and gold, a matching pair. One great white beast, with a streaming silver mane and gleaming golden horn atop his head, and a slightly smaller one, his mate, black as night with a midnight blue mane that twinkles as if strewn with stardust, as does his shining silver horn.


	2. More Art!!!

Unicorn family!!! Some enablers are trying to get me to write a sequel...it might work, if the muses are so inclined... BUT OMG they're so cute!!! And so are the MLP style Viktuuri and baby!!!


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